Smallclothes Raid!
by bamftastik
Summary: Zevran is a terrible influence on our poor, young Warden. But there's just something about that bosom...


"Hm. You have excellent taste, my friend." Leaning a companionable elbow on Kash's shoulder, Zevran followed his gaze across the camp to watch Wynne duck into her tent.

"Do I?" The younger elf smirked as he shook his head. "She has merely given me a lot to think about. She's a good woman, not entirely what I expected from a mage."

"You imagined something more like our dear Morrigan, perhaps?" He nodded to the cookfire, where the witch seemed to be threatening Alistair with a soup ladle.

Kash laughed. "Perhaps."

"But women - like a fine wine - only grow better with age. And your Wynne is particularly ripe, yes?"

"I don't-"

"He is talking about her bosom." Seated on a nearby log, Leliana grinned but kept her eyes firmly fixed on the tuning of her lute.

"And such a marvelous bosom it is! Magical, no? Do you not agree, my friend?"

Kash felt the flush creeping toward his ears, but before he could protest Morrigan stopped beside them. "Magic?" She snorted. "I have seen the woman wash and believe me when I say that age has not been kind. 'Tis merely trickery of cloth and wire."

"Ah, I have seen such things before. In Antiva, women are not so... restrained - but you call them brassieres, yes? Surely any device that could hold such fine and ample bounty must have been forged by the Maker himself!"

"You are a child."

Zevran tsked. "Jealousy? But your bosom is no less by comparison, my dear. Perhaps you have some magic of your own that you would like to share?"

Morrigan turned on her heel with a growl, stalking toward her tent. As Zevran settled back beside him, Kash kept his head down, hoping that the shadows would hide the warmth of his cheeks.

But Leliana was watching him now. "I sometimes forget that you are as bad as Alistair." She chuckled. "You certainly hide it better."

"What?" Zevran turned to face him, clapping a hand to his mouth in mock horror. "Do not tell me that our Warden has never-"

"Leave him alone, Zev." But still she smiled, plucking a few playful chords.

"Then we must have a look at this device! As a matter of education!" His hand closed round Kash's wrist, pointing his attention to where Wynne was slipping from her tent. Her arms were laden with soaps and linens, her stride long and determined as she moved toward the mabari. The hound laid back its ears expectantly, rolling defiantly in the dirt as she approached. "There, you see? A perfect opportunity."

Kash quirked a suspicious brow. "For what, exactly?"

"Why, to sneak into her tent and have a look for ourselves, of course! You keep spare smallclothes in your packs, do you not?"

"Yes, but-"

"She must do the same. And if the tales are true, this wondrous brassiere must be worthy of study, of worship, of liberation!"

"Liber-?" He shot Leliana a desperate glance. "You're not going to help me, are you?"

She shook her head, doing nothing to hide her smirk as she began to hum beneath her breath.

"Come, my friend." Grip tightening on Kash's arm, Zevran pulled him to his feet. "Let us consider this part of your assassin's training."

Kash found himself being dragged wide of the mage's tent, the pair of them ducking into the shadow of the nearby trees. "She could turn us both into toads."

Zevran's chuckle was whispered, slithering. "No treasure is ever won without risk. Now. The target has been set. Let us make our approach."

"I'm used to attacking from stealth, you know."

"Ahh, but your manner is far from delicate. A true assassin must recognize weakness, strike only at the most precise of moments and realize when his interests are best served by patience. It is merely a preference for staying alive, you see."

"Y-you don't actually think she'd... kill us?"

"Eh, who can say? Now go." He gave Kash a shove, sending him stumbling toward the tent.

Cursing beneath his breath, he dropped into a crouch, inching toward the tent. It blocked Wynne and the mabari from view, but from the warhound's muted snarls the bath was well under way.

"Hm. Too slow." Zevran stepped round the tent, chuckling as Kash started. He must have snuck round from the other side, in full and flaunting view of the others. "But I will not say that you are not graceful, in your way."

"What now?"

"Now? In you go, my friend."

"Me?"

He grinned. "As I said, an assassin knows when his interests are better served by retreat. And as I am an assassin and you are not..."

"Oh, Maker's breath." Kash craned his neck, trying to see round the tent. "You'll at least stand watch, won't you?"

"But of course."

With a deep sigh, he steeled himself and ducked his head beneath the flap. It was dark inside, thick with the smell of herbs but his eyes adjusted quickly to-

"Elikash Tabris!"

He stumbled backward with a yelp, tripping over himself as he tangled in the canvas. Wynne stood with the mabari at her side, arms folded across her ample-

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!"

She followed as he scrambled back toward the trees, arching a brow as she shook her head. "And just what were you doing?"

"I... we... I... We-wanted-a-look-at-your-smallclothes-I'm-sorry!"

As if in response, the mabari flattened his ears with a growl.

"Hey! Whose side are you on, anyway?"

It cocked its head with a whine.

But Wynne's lips twitched into something of a bemused smirk. "My...? Not since I was an apprentice have I..." She shook herself. "But you did not think to merely ask?"

Kash blinked. "To... ask...?"

"So you sneak into my tent instead." She tsked, stepping forward to grab him by an ear and drag him back toward camp. "I should have thought you would know better."

"I- Hey! Ow!"

"And Zevran."

"Yes, my darling Wynne?"

She pausing, looking back at him over her shoulder as Kash squirmed. "Actually, I expected as much."

He dropped into a flourishing bow.

Wynne led them to the spot where they had been seated before, forceful hands moving to Kash's shoulders to sit him back down upon the log. Her touch lingered as she bent to meet his eyes, the cool healing taking the sting from his ear. "A point of advice, Warden. When next you are curious about the ways of women... do not listen to Zevran."

"You wound me, my dear." Zevran flopped down beside them with a lazy grin.

Strangely enough, Wynne ruffed Kash's hair as she straightened, chuckling beneath her breath as she made her way back to her tent.

"I take it it did not go well?" Leliana set aside her lute, watching the pair of them with a widening grin.

"Perhaps not." Zevran sighed. "But - what is the saying? - we live to fight another day, yes?"

Laughing now, she reached behind the log, tossing something to land in Kash's lap. He held it up to the meager light, blinking in surprise. "How did you-?"

Zevran snatched the brassiere from his hands, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. "And it is Wynne's!"

Leliana shrugged with a wink for Kash. "Let us just say that if the assassin training does not work out, you at least make a good distraction."

Tossing the strange and tangled linens to Kash, Zevran clapped Leliana on the back. "Magic indeed!"


End file.
